


Taco Hell

by Soobiebear



Category: Megadeth
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 04:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12100947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soobiebear/pseuds/Soobiebear
Summary: Written as a gift for Julietds, as part of 2016's A Very Kinky Rockfic Ficmas Fest. The prompt was 'Dave Mustaine,David Ellefson (Megadeth): Baby Deth. David is homesick, Dave will comfort him..'





	Taco Hell

1986 - W. 8th and S. Vermont

David knelt on the piss stained floor of the Taco Bell and vomited again. This was the worst flu he’d ever had and he couldn’t stop throwing up, his stomach twisting and expelling even the spit he swallowed. He’d eaten something bad as well, his guts cramping and pushing out whatever his stomach did manage to process. His head felt like it had cracked open and his brain was leaking out, the migraine making for a lethal combination of illnesses.

If he was home in Minnesota his mom would take care of him, bringing him to a doctor and making sure he kept his pills down, pushing the nursing home’s version of Gatorade on him until he wanted to retch because of the taste.

In LA he was on his own. No doctors, no prescriptions, and no bed to be sick in. Just his old van with a few blankets in the back and Dave. He hoped Dave didn’t catch whatever he had. It was bad and despite his bravado Dave just wasn’t as strong as he pretended to be.

The bathroom door swung open. Occupying the lone stall David hoped the guy would just use the urinal and be gone. His legs felt like jelly and he wasn’t sure he could make it to the van without having another accident.

Fingers wrapped around the stall door and pulled. David managed to climb up enough to twist the latch after seeing Dave’s ratty sneakers. The movement was enough to spin his head off and another wave of nausea passed through him. David sank to the floor on his hands and knees, barely managing to hang his head into the filthy porcelain.

“SSssh, it’s alright, I gotcha.” Dave managed to shuffle him around to his knees and pull his chin off the toilet rim. Dave pulled his matted hair back and tied it back with something, probably another bread tie. It was enough to keep his hair out of the vomit and toilet water.

When the heaving tapered off, Dave leaned him back and pinned him against the tiled wall. “You’re detoxing, it’s normal.” A cold and wet paper towel landed across his aching eyes. “Gotta go do some business then I’ll get you well again.”

The wet towel moved, wiping the vomit from his lips and chin. “A few hours and it’ll all be a bad nightmare.”

David’s intestines gave a squeeze from the position change and another pair of underwear was ruined.

“Got a buyer on Hawthorne, you remember where that is, right?” David moaned in reply. There was no way he could get to the van. He’d sit here and die in this damn Taco Bell until an ambulance came.

Dave grabbed another rough paper towel and wet it in the sink before rubbing it over David’s face. “We gotta go before the cops show up.” Arms went around David’s chest and lifted him off the ground. He was spun around a few times before being dropped onto what passed for a bed in the back of the van.

Cold sweat was already running down his face again, the salt in his eyes adding to the melange of pain he was experiencing.

“I might not be your mom,” Dave called from the driver’s seat as they crept along the busy roadways, “But in a few hours I guarantee you’ll be just fine.”


End file.
